Sunday, May 10, 2009

Soundtrack to Life #10



My Mom loved Lou Reed's Walk on the Wild Side - especially the part "and the colored girls go doot do doot do doot..." - until she really heard the lyrics for the first time.  After that she never mentioned it, but I think she still liked the song.  

Mom also liked Elvis Presley and a lot of cowboy singers from the 50's, her era.   She graduated Cathedral High School in Springfield, Massachusetts in 1956 then married my Dad two years later in an Italian wedding straight out of The Godfather.  (Minus the scene with Sonny and Lucy, I imagine.)  Even though my Grandparents weren't wealthy.  Even though she married someone from far away and not Italian.  Or Irish.  Or even Catholic until he converted.  Which was required to marry Mom.  No, they were very working class.  People did that in those days - big weddings.  

Mom got down to the business of being a wife and a mom and didn't really have a lot of time for music.  She brought the box of singles with her to Oregon.  We giggled at them in the 70's when they became uncool.  She got annoyed with us and put them away again.  They're probably worth a small fortune now.  Wherever they are.

We had odd albums in the house - Dominique by The Singing Nun; the soundtracks to The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins (which launched me into full on Julie Andrews fandom), the original cast recording of Hair, of all things, which came about when I asked for "Hair" from my other Grandma for a birthday present, meaning The Cowsills' hit version which I'd heard on a 45 while visiting my Mom's mom and her little brothers, my Uncles.   Grandma, not being used to buying singles, picked up the album.   Looking back on that, I'm really surprised Mom let me listen to it.   She didn't know that I looked up the word "sodomy" - the title to perhaps the most questionable song.  I looked up everything else quoted in the song as well.  And filed it away for later.

When the Uncles got old enough to road trip by themselves they came out and brought The Beatles, Cream, Santana and Iron Butterfly out with them - on 8 track tapes - and added to the musical soup that we'd brewed up on our own.  Mom liked Neil Diamond by then.  And Cat Stevens (though I was the one who owned the albums) and The Irish Rovers.  The Uncles stayed and added Crosby Stills Nash and Young, Pink Floyd and Seals and Crofts.

My brother and I were old enough to be adding our own collections to the mix - all of the popular 70's artists - and Mom had met and married a guy who brought along George Carlin albums so we learned the seven words you cannot say on television.  They were played openly at our house.

So it came as a small surprise when Mom stuck her head into John's door in protest at Frank Zappa's Catholic Girls, from Joe's Garage, streaming from his teenage bedroom.  Perhaps those lyrics were just a bit too much?  My brother, to his credit, did turn it down.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  I miss you.  We turned out okay in spite of everything and I know you're proud of us.  I hope the music never stops where you are now and they play all of your favorites.













1 comment:

Barbara Bruederlin said...

What a lovely tribute to your mother. She sounds like she was quite an amazing person.